Regret
by Yo-Rah
Summary: Spike's mental state is more complex than he cared to admit and his dreams seem to be the only outlet his consciousness will allow to make him confront his buried fears and demons. Nothing like a little distraction to tell the mind just who's Boss.


He tugged irritably at the neck of his shirt, sweat running down his back in the overcrowded and well lit ballroom. He resisted the urge to run his fingers through his hair, annoyed at how much of that icky stuff Faye shoved in it. It was hard, shiny and made his normally wild hair stick down like a strict teacher would with unruly students. And the weight of that gooey-gone-hard crap was giving him a headache. He wanted a cigarette, a proper beer and to be with real people again. Folks that didn't give a shit about what others think and wouldn't turn their nose up at eating four different bits of food with the same fork let alone the wrong one.

He scratched the back of his neck and grimaced for what seemed like the millionth time, his foot twitching hysterically. It was much too bright; the place was lit up like a game field complete with a blinding chandelier that screamed _STEAL ME!_ That piece alone would have covered most of the expenses on the _Bebop _but Jet was struck with short-term moralitus and would not stand for his partners pilfering the rich and giving to the needy. They were scoundrels, parasites living off the misfortune of others. So what if they added theft to their long list of dirty deeds? They were going to Hell anyway, might as well do it to the best of their abilities.

Another downer for the man was that Spike didn't know how to talk these kinds of people. It wasn't as if they could take a joke. Hell, even the signals for sex were a little whack. Take this event for example:

"_Mr Collins, I dare say that suit is simply divine."_

"_Uh... thanks?"_

_Her bright blue eyes sparkled with cheeky assurances and unsaid promises and Spike recognized that particular endearing and sultry look. She twirled a strand of hair playfully, placed a well manicured hand on his arm and laughed, brushing her body lightly against his own._

"_Oh Mr Collins, you are far too modest."_

_Spike blinked a few times, eyeing her hand on his arm. His jaw dropped in realisation and he blurted his next comment without thought. "Let me get this straight. You wanna screw me?"_

_Her face flushed to match the colour of her dress and the woman threw the contents of her drink in his face, storming away and jostling a few of the other guests in her haste to leave Spike behind. Spike shook his head much like a dog then wiped his dripping face with his right hand, grimacing at the sickly sweet cocktail she had been drinking._

"_All you had to do was ask lady." He called after her retreating form as she made her way to the balcony and out of sight but not before shooting him a dirty look and an upturned nose that only a well to do person could pull off and not look like a total loser. _

Spike took his soaking behind to the men's bathroom, very aware of the murderous scowl from Faye and the exasperated headshake from Jet. Well, at least they couldn't fault his excuse for taking off. Spike even gave another little shack before entering the men's room.

The man stepped into the deserted bathroom then stopped in front of the hand basin, noting how clean and tidy it all was. He snatched a small packet of soap and shoved the item into his inside jacket pocket. Edward would love it.

Spike took his time washing his face, and being extra vigilant with spot cleaning his suit. The more time spent in the bathroom meant more time in hiding. That very thought caught Spike by surprise and he froze midway of washing the suds still apparent on his skin. He looked up in the mirror and regarded the man staring back at him.

Squeaky clean and respectability oozed out of his reflection, and Spike fought as panic threatened to rise to the surface, cutting their chances of apprehending the bounty to less than 60 per cent. The slight bulge in his jacket was the only giveaway that he was not at this party for schmoozing and trading jokes about the latest rise and fall of woo long in various parts of the galaxy. Even the stench of cigarette smoke seemed to fade away, leaving Spike to smell faintly of the expensive cologne Faye nicked for him and Jet while she was shopping for cosmetics.

Spike jammed paper towels down the marble sink and ran the tap on full blast. He soaped up his hands and then held his breath, gearing up to sink his head into the water. He flooded the bathroom floor as he dunked his head in the water, the liquid overflowing and soaking the front of his blazer. Spike ignored that as he lathered up his hair, scrubbing his scalp to scour the gunk Faye moulded onto his head until his hair was an unruly mop once again - albeit a wet one.

He couldn't believe that a bounty valued at 5 million woo long was worth the _Bebop _crew masquerading as high class rollers when they were clearly not. He hated the feel of the expensive designer suit, crisp and clean cut against his skin. Not to mention the pansy shiny shoes. To what purpose did they serve other than to scream wealth and power? Hey, check out my cool shoes and guess what? They tell you just how much bigger my dick is than yours!

The whole get up made him feel like an idiot. And Spike did _not_ like feeling like an idiot.

He exited the bathroom looking more out of place than ever, but a hell of a lot more comfortable in his own skin. He waved a lazy hand at Faye – who was the centre of attention (of course) and shrugged at Jet who raised a knowing eyebrow. Spike grinned his goofy grin at the woman in the scarlet dress and made a show of winking at her. If he didn't know any better, Spike would say that she actually ducked her head to hide her blush. The man still has it, you know.

Faye on the other hand was lapping the opportunity up. She went all out with new make-up, a killer plum dress that dropped to her navel and cut so that it showed a heck lot more leg than society deemed appropriate complete with six inch heels that clicked against the cool marble floor. She "borrowed" jewellery, and sipped elegantly at Champaign as if she were used to having the best and only the best. She flirted, she charmed and became the most hated woman by the other females in the building as their sleazy husbands and fathers ogled the woman that clearly adored the spotlight.

Faye laughed when some guy whispered in her ear and took the chance to glance up at the stage, her piercing green eyes lighting up as she caught a glimpse of the people up there. She tapped her glass three times with her index finger – the signal. Since Faye was the only one who actually knew what their bounty looked like she was the key player in the get-rich-quick scheme. The subtle movement was more than enough to catch the attention of her two partners and the woman continued to toy with the men. She was after all, the bait.

Spike and Jet simultaneously looked up at the stage and took a double take. There was a man in his late sixties, his hair grey and thinning and his back slightly hunched. His skin was still tight for an old guy and his gaze was cold and calculating. He looked like the kind of dude that used to break knee caps when he was mildly irritated and chopped off ears when he was giving a warning. His beady little eyes had seen too much of the bad things in the world and it was much too late for him to turn back and make things right. But it wasn't him that Spike got the willies from.

It was the ten year old boy at his elbow.

The kid was sickly pale, and had that same cold and intelligent gaze as the old man. With piercing blue eyes and raven hair he appeared as someone who had done things that no kid should have done. He suspected the youngling was a boy genius and was at the point in his life where he was either going to sink or swim with the big boys. Even his teeth were creepy – the incisors pushed forward slightly so that he almost resembled a vampire. Hell, that kid _did _look a lot like a blood sucking vampire but Spike didn't have an overactive imagination like that. Hell to the freaking no!

The kid reminded Spike of Vicious.

Spike must have stood rooted on the spot because the next thing he knew Jet had cuffed the old man up real good and was slowly backing off the stage while Faye had her gun trained on security, her aim strong and true. She tilted her head to the side slightly, her lips parted with confusion and Jet looked entirely baffled with Spike's odd behaviour. Spike snapped out of his daze and took three long strides, finally getting his nerve back to train his gun on the kid, breathing heavily as sweat that had nothing to do with the heat rolling down the sides of his face.

"My Grandfather is a very powerful man." The kid spoke with perfect diction, his riveting eyes on Spike. Spike resisted the urge to bite his lip to stop his inner trembling. He scarcely kept himself together. "Tread very carefully, bounty hunter."

"Oh yeah?" Spike forced himself to grin infuriatingly to get a rise out of the boy even though his heart wasn't in it. "He looks like another crusty old geezer that should have stayed home. Too bad he's worth a lot more here than was there, eh kiddo?"

The kid smiled his incisors sharp and his smirk humourless. He raised his hand at Spike, thumb sticking straight up and his index finger pointing like a gun. "Bang."

Spike squeezed the trigger, making a rookie mistake of holding the trigger. It's only natural to flinch when you're scared. The bullet rocketed towards the boy, that sombre smirk still in place as the metal sunk into his shoulder.

Spike gasped, the end of his gun smoking. He saw the kid drop as if in slow motion, that cocky smirk of his growing wider as he tumbled helplessly to the floor. His head bounced off the stage and blood bloomed from the point of impact, painting the white shirt red. He coughed, and then looked up at Spike with malicious intent.

Spike felt hands pulling at his arm, and those same hands disarming him. He heard people running and screaming, and saw a young couple bending over the boy, gently pushing him over onto his back. Spike was vaguely aware of rushed whispers in his ear and his feet moving under him, following the voices instructions like a robot.

Spike saw the boy in his mind, sneering like a maniac and shivered.

That kid was Vicious all over.

And Spike felt guilty because he should have shot Vicious when he had the chance.

"VICIOUS!" Spike screamed, throwing the covers off his sweat soaked body. In a panic his eyes darted through the cold and deserted living area and gulped in air as quickly as his lungs would allow. As he took in the familiar shadows and the gentle hum of the engine groans, Spike came to the conclusion that he was on the _Bebop _and had fallen asleep while watching T.V.

It took a whole minute of controlled breathing before Spike calmed down enough to sort through rushing adrenaline and the overwhelming emotions burning relentlessly through his system. He then noticed that someone was at the foot of the couch.

"Spike person need Faye-Faye?" a thirteen year old girl peered up at Spike with bright and innocent eyes. She was crouched on the balls of her feet, a cushion tucked securely into her arms and a thin blanket draped haphazardly over her skinny shoulders. The corners of her mouth were turned downward and her expression was that of a very concerned little girl.

Spike took in her stature and grimaced. "Jesus Ed, how long have you been there for?"

"Edward came lickity split when Ed heard Spike person moooaaaning and grooooooaaaaning like the ship does when it's sick." She informed the man truthfully, swaying from side to side, dancing chaotically. "Ein was highly disturbed and put his little doggie head down the loo loo bells."

Spike couldn't help himself. He had to smile at the eclectic girl he had come to know as Radical Ed.

"Oh yeah? And what else happened?"

Ecstatic that Spike no longer seemed to be haunted by his dreams Edward launched into the riveting and exhilarating tale of how Ein got his head stuck in the toilet earlier that night. She even narrated a step by step account of the trials that occurred before the inseparable duo of girl and beast did before turning in for the evening. And by the time she was finished Spike was in much higher spirits then before.

"Edward?"

The girl giggled and snuggled into her blanket, using the cushion as a roof. "Hmm?"

"Thanks for hanging out with me." Spike smiled, lanky limbs draping over the couch in the most awkward places. "But it's our little secret, got it?"

"On oooooooooone tiny condition," the girl threw herself onto Spike with amazing agility. She could win medals in gymnastics throughout the entire galaxy if she wasn't too preoccupied with the millions of brilliant thoughts that trickled freely through her head.

"Shoot."

Edward grinned at Spike like a cat who cornered the mouse, her face inches from his. "Spike person must promise Edward something amazingly, marvellously good."

Spike thought it over and nodded readily. "You got it."

"Yippppppppppppeeeeeeeeeeeee!" the girl squealed, bouncing in all directions like a firecracker set loose. She then bounded off and into the amazingly, marvellously wonderful world of Edward that no other soul could reach to leave Spike with his thoughts once again.

At least he was granted respite for a little while.


End file.
